


there's nothing in this world i wouldn't do

by stitchingatthecircuitboard



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 22:19:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 696
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2828072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stitchingatthecircuitboard/pseuds/stitchingatthecircuitboard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is in the second person. This is happening to you because I don't want to be here.</p>
<p>
  <a href="http://stainofmylove.livejournal.com/243343.html">fills for the 100 ficathon on LJ</a>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	there's nothing in this world i wouldn't do

**Author's Note:**

> **prompt:** monty green, _this is in the second person. this is happening to you because i don't want to be here._

This is in the second person. This is happening to you because I don't want to be here. You are locked in the hall of the real live mountain king who survives off the blood of people who have seen earth and sky, as if he could sip the sunlight from your veins and recall what it means to be alive. He sits, he paints, he smiles, benign, showing no teeth. You’ve learned to distrust that, and miss the grounders: at least you knew where you stood with them, at least they would snarl fully when they meant you harm.

Watching Maya, watching Jasper, the president, the doctor — nothing here is what it seems. “They gave us cake,” Jasper says, imploringly — _c’mon, monty, just be glad we’re okay, we’re safe, when was the last time you felt this comfortable, this secure, with real beds and real pillows and real chocolate fucking cake_ , and maybe that’s the problem all along: you’ve never felt this secure, this safe, which must mean it’s a lie.

_this is too good to be true_ , Clarke had said, and you’d wanted to hug her, never let her go, because Clarke you could trust, a queen carved from blood and bone who knew exactly what such becoming cost. _this is too good to be true_ , she’d said, and you'd settled, vindicated, ready to go where she led, but now she’s gone, and you’re alone.

You are, not me. _You_. This is happening to you, because I’m tired of being afraid and suspicious and untrusting, and their cake is good, so it’s happening to you because you ask _what would clarke do_ and do that to the best of your ability.

Go on. What would Clarke do? Clarke would do what was necessary to protect the forty-eight. Clarke would unite them. Clarke would make a plan.

Go on.

 

 

Miller, Nathan, Miller — he answers to either and you’re not sure what to call him, but you catch his eye in the lunch line and meet him after. There are so many reasons to be careful, so many reasons not to talk to him at lunch: the Mountain Men (you still can’t shake that name) eat with the forty-eight, meaning no privacy; Jasper would notice and be even angrier at you than he already is, and you are, I think, learning to see the big picture.

What would Clarke do? She would bide her time, she would hunt for information. Whatever she did, though, got her disappeared, so you need to be more careful. Jasper talks to Maya, Maya talks to Jasper, tolerates you. There’s the potential for information, at least.

“Yeah, man,” Miller says, a low raspy whisper that tugs at something in you you don’t have time to think about, “you’re right. We need to get everyone out of here, we need to be careful. There’s something off about all of this.”

Together, you plan: you will keep working on Jasper, and Maya by extension, and Miller will organize the rest of the forty-eight. You will coordinate and communicate — lessons learned from Raven's radios, the asides Bellamy and Clarke had without even speaking, people always on the same page, the strongest leaders you know. You're not a leader by nature, and neither is Miller, quite, but you and he and the rest will do it so the Mountain Men fucking don't, so Jasper doesn't get the chance to fuck things up more than he already has.

(What was he thinking, giving them his blood, giving them that precedent, the space to ask politely for more. How soon before they no longer ask?)

 

 

"I'm the mastermind," Jasper tells Harper smugly, and you roll your eyes at her, a silent plea for her to follow the plan. He's not the mastermind, but he's become — prouder, since coming to Earth, and he needs to be handled carefully.

Listen to you, talking about handling your best friend carefully, considering the best way to manipulate him to get you all out of this hall of the mountain king. This is why I don't want to be here. I don't want to know if these are choices I can make.


End file.
